


Postcards from Wales

by vvj5 (lost_spook)



Category: Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Serial: 147 Delta and the Bannermen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-29
Updated: 2011-04-29
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/pseuds/vvj5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The TARDIS breaks down a mile and three weeks away from the Shangri-La Holiday Club. Mel & the Doctor take the time to catch up in their own ways. (A Delta and the Bannermen epilogue)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Postcards from Wales

**One: Broken ship**

“Doctor!”

Mel’s outburst was the first thing to be heard as the door to the TARDIS opened. Shortly after, the Doctor and Mel emerged, black clouds of smoke billowing out behind them. They were both coughing and the Doctor had dark smudges on his face.

After a brief spate of spluttering, the Doctor surveyed his craft sheepishly. “Hmm. It looks as if that sonic cone did some damage after all.”

“Yes, it does,” agreed Mel sharply. Then she sighed. Travelling the universe with a Time Lord sounded glamorous, but it seemed to involve more breakdowns driving in her Dad’s clapped out old Avenger. (The one the exhaust had fallen out of halfway to Scotland). “Where are we, anyway?”

He glanced around them. “Oh, not far. Just a mile or so and maybe a week or two away from where we were.”

“How far and how long?” she demanded, wanting exact figures, as always.

He touched the outer shell of the ship gingerly and jumped back, sucking his fingers as if he’d been scalded.

“Doctor!”

He smiled at her. “I can’t be certain about these things -.”

“I know.”

“But it’s a mile and a half in that direction and, judging from the leaves on the trees, I’d say about three weeks after we left.”

Mel looked at him sternly. “Are you making that up?”

“No,” he said and smiled at her. “Someone’s left a newspaper lying around over there and I came here with Ray.”

She hugged him. “Thanks, Doctor,” she said cheerfully. “I’m going to see if I can find Mr Burton and ask him very nicely if I can have a spare cabin. You just let me know when you’ve fixed that.”

“What?”

Mel looked back at him with fond exasperation. “Doctor, it’s been a long couple of days and I haven’t had much sleep. And you know you never let me help, not really.”

“All right,” he returned happily. “I’ll see you in a few hours. Maybe a day or so.”

She shook her head and set off in the direction he had indicated.

***

**Two: Broken Nights**

Mel sat down on the narrow bed in the holiday chalet and reminded herself that much as she trusted the Doctor, she really should know not to rely on his sense of direction by now. She ended up in the opposite village and had to hitch a lift back to the Shangri-La Holiday site.

Mr Burton had greeted her with pleasure and then worry. He leant forward, clearing his throat and said in an undertone, “It’s not more trouble with aliens from outer space, is it?”

“No, no, Mr Burton,” she laughed. “The Doctor’s space ship broke down and I wondered if I could stay here till he’s fixed it. I suppose it’s a bit of a cheek, but -.””

He assured her that it was no problem, none at all, and set about ordering one of his staff to make a place ready for her.

“I’m sorry; I’m being a nuisance,” she said.

He gave her a stern look. “Of course not, young lady. Don’t you worry about it for a moment.”

Now Mel lay down on the bed gratefully and yawned. She hoped that it really would take the Doctor days to fix the ship. A day or two of proper rest sounded ideal, even to her. Not only did their non-existent days and nights not always allow for much sleeping, she didn’t usually sleep well in the TARDIS.

It was his fault, of course. Mel smiled ruefully as she reflected on the differences between the Doctor she’d first met and the man he now was. She missed the larger-than-life version sometimes and the not-sleeping thing was a perfect example of why.

He never had wasted much time that way, she knew that, and every so often, he’d get bored being the only one awake and she’d suddenly find herself waking and blinking in the darkness, confused and wondering why someone was throwing things about somewhere.

Investigation would reveal the Doctor trying to construct something unlikely out of spare bits and pieces he had lying around, throwing broken elements, or bringing the whole thing clattering down.

Or it’d be a shrill whistling, followed by abrupt screaming, loud curses and whimpering and, after running to help, she’d find that he’d been trying to see exactly what James Watt had found so fascinating about primitive kettles, with the inevitable result of scalding himself.

One occasion, she’d been outraged to be woken by Shakespeare being loudly declaimed outside her door.

“Imitate the action of the tiger -.”

“Doctor!”

He jumped, a ludicrously exaggerated expression of innocence plastered across his face. “Mel. What are you doing here?”

“This is my room!”

He only looked at her and said. “Really? I thought you were at the other end of the corridor. Are you sure, young lady?”

“Perfectly,” she said snappily. “Memory like an elephant, remember?”

And since she was up, he would immediately suggest that they might as well have a cup of tea and finish that game of chess / Scrabble / Monopoly / multidimensional tennis / discuss his latest theory, during which time they would land somewhere new and he’d be off, out the door, and straight into trouble.

Now she woke in the early hours, or whatever passed for them in the TARDIS, knowing that he was out there doing something as unlikely, but not waking her and it bothered her. When they’d first met, in the oddest way, underneath all the bluster, she’d felt that he needed her. Now, despite their friendship having grown, she wasn’t so sure.

Mel yawned again and fell asleep.

***

**Three: Broken Parts**

The Doctor put his hanky over his mouth and nose and ventured back into the TARDIS. Moments later, he re-emerged, coughing again. That wasn’t going to work quite yet.

“Doctor,” said a voice behind him. “What are you doing here?”

He turned with pleasure and smiled at Ray, the Welsh girl he’d met a couple of days ago – or three weeks ago, if he went by her time. Naturally. He’d said to Mel that this was one of her special places. “Ray! Still riding the Vincent, I see.”

She glanced back at the motorcycle with faint pride. “Of course.”

“I’m just having trouble with mine,” he confessed.

Ray looked at the TARDIS. “Your space ship?”

The Doctor glanced at it regretfully. “She’s not looking her best at the moment. I tried to dematerialise and the old girl protested. I suppose she’s been through a lot lately.”

“Have you heard from Billy?”

He supposed he hadn’t exactly explained the time travel side of his ship and he only said, “The universe is a big place.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Silly of me.”

He sat down on the grass, looking out at the view from the top of the hill and motioned for her to join him. Ray did so. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’ll be all right,” she said. “Don’t worry, Doctor. When somebody turns green and runs off with a woman from outer space in a spaceship to the other end of the galaxy – you’ve got to stop thinking about them, haven’t you? It was only seeing you -.”

He smiled, glad to hear it.

She sighed to herself. “It’s never the girl next door anyway, is it? Not really.”

“Sometimes,” he said distantly. “Once in a blue moon or two.”

Ray said, “It’s always the mysterious stranger. Glamour, isn't it.”

“Glamour’s not anything to write home about,” returned the Doctor. “Smoke and glitter and nonsense and not much else. Besides, if you wanted, there are places in the universe when you’d be the exotic visitor.”

She smiled at that idea. “If it comes to that, I could go to the next village.”

“And now you’ve got the Vincent, what’s to stop you?” he agreed.

She laughed. “Better to stay here for a bit and help Mr Burton now Billy’s gone. He doesn’t really approve but he lets me, because there’s not exactly anyone else around who can do it.”

“You could travel,” he suggested.

Ray got to her feet. “Oh, no, you need money for that sort of thing – and where would I go?”

“Cardiff?”

She made a face. “I think it might be difficult to find someone who's looking for a girl mechanic. They haven’t got so much choice here.”

“The world’s changing,” he told her and then got to his feet, disappearing back into the TARDIS. The smoke had dissipated slightly and he reappeared with a blackened component that had coloured wires hanging out of it.

He looked at it carefully. “I’d say this might be the problem, wouldn’t you?”

“What is it?” she asked in wide-eyed fascination. “What does it do?”

The Doctor stared at it again and turned it round slowly. “I haven’t the faintest idea, but it must be something important.”

“Don’t you have a manual?” she asked. “You can’t go driving a vehicle round the place if you don’t know how to take care of it.”

He thought about it. “I’m sure I saw one only the other century.” He glanced back at her. “You could come and help me look.”

She smiled at him and followed him inside.

***

**Four: Broken Skies (Interlude on an Alien Planet)**

“Where are we?” asked a wondering Ray as she stepped out into her first alien landscape. (Excepting that trip to Bristol she’d made with the school a long time ago, of course.) The stars were still stars but their positions were wrong, making her feel dizzy as she stared upwards.

The Doctor emerged backwards from the TARDIS, glaring at his ship. “ _That_ wasn’t supposed to happen!”

“Mr Burton’s going to kill me if I’m not back soon,” said Ray, but she was still staring about her. There were purple plants everywhere, twining around ruins on the top of a hillside that could hardly be less like the one that they had left. “And I left the Vincent on the hill!”

He looked at the piece of broken and blackened machinery still in his hand. “Hmm. Evidently, this isn’t as vital as I thought.”

“Well, I did ask if I could press the button,” said Ray fairly. “It’s my fault, really.”

He put the component in his pocket. Ray widened her eyes slightly, sure it shouldn’t have fitted. “Yes, yes you did. But nothing was working. She shouldn’t have landed us here – wherever here is.”

“Well, we’re here now,” said the Welsh girl prosaically. “Is it safe?”

He glanced across at her, a smile lurking in his eyes. “Is anywhere safe?”

“I suppose not,” she answered, struck. She caught at his arm. “What’s that?”

*

“Does this sort of thing happen often?” asked Ray, when the tall, bear-like aliens had left them alone in the cell.

“Well, I can’t say that I’ve been arrested for flattening the Sacred Flower of Hiatchis before, but I’ve seen the inside of a few cells.”

She blushed and leant towards him. “This is my first time.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Ray looked around them. “I did think about taking a humbug from Mrs Pugh’s shop once when I was small, but she stared at me as if she knew and I never dared even take my hands out of my pockets. Um, Doctor?”

“Yes?”

She moved closer to him and whispered, “Shouldn’t we try to escape?”

“Why?”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?”

He winked at her. “I suppose it is. I thought this time we might catch forty winks and have a word with that captain again in the morning.”

“Have you got some clever plan, Doctor?”

Ray bit her lip as he lay down and put his hat over his head. It was as well that no one would ever hear about this, given the fact that it was not the first time she’d spent the night with him. She’d have to go to Cardiff if this sort of thing went on. Or Swansea. Somewhere that nobody would know she was _Rachel who we all thought was going to marry that Billy but took up with a passing alien and started thinking she could find her way around a combustion engine_. Or something a lot shorter and less flattering.

“Of course,” he said and they both knew that it was a bluff, but it didn’t matter. It would be true in the morning.

*

Ray couldn’t spend her first and likely only night on an alien planet sleeping. She crossed to the window and watched the sky. She memorised the stars in their new patterns and named constellations that no human eyes had ever seen before, with names like The Vincent and Goronwy’s Hive and Delta, and wondered what the aliens called them. Then she watched the dark sky turn new shades of colours through green and yellow to a burnt orange.

“Just like home,” mused the Doctor, intrigued, opening one eye and lifting his hat at precisely that moment, giving her to believe that he slept like a cat and knew exactly what she was doing.

She turned. “Where is your home? Is it far?”

“Millions of light years away,” he said distantly. “At least, sometimes. Sometimes it’s as near as you are now and other times I couldn’t be further away.”

Ray only said, “Do you miss it?”

“No,” he said with a quick smile. “Terrible place, full of pompous, officious nitwits who think they’ve learnt everything and that the universe doesn’t have anything else to offer, so they might as well stay at home and play games.”

She helped him up. “How far are we from Earth?”

“Hmm,” he said and considered it. “About two hundred million light years and four thousand earth years, as the penguin flies. Or possibly about three hundred billion light years and seven thousand years if you take the scenic route with the pelican.”

Ray shivered. “Thinking about it makes me feel funny. I want to go home, Doctor.”

“Hiraeth?” he said with both humour and sympathy.

She laughed. “Maybe. But more that I can’t go leaving the Vincent lying around like that. Billy would never have left her to me if he’d known. How do we get back?”

“I suppose I should think of something,” he said. “Ray, I forgot! Mel!”

Ray stopped at that. “Oh, yes. Where is she, Doctor?”

“Shangri-La,” he said guiltily. “If she comes back and see the TARDIS gone, she’ll think I’ve deserted her. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

She hugged his arm. “I’m sure she’d never think you'd do that, Doctor.”

He only knocked loudly on the door and demanded to see the Captain.

*

“Where are they taking us now?” Ray was whispering again, this time as guards escorted them across the courtyard.

He took her hand, guilt written across his face in large letters. “I think somebody said something about the Place of Execution.”

“Oh, I don’t think I want to go there,” she said.

The Captain had _not_ listened to the Doctor’s explanation that it had all been a terrible misunderstanding and that his ship had been malfunctioning, or he would never have landed anywhere near the Sacred Flower. He hadn’t seemed interested, which Ray thought was very impolite of him.

The Doctor turned back to her. “Ray, I agree. Now – run!”

*

“That was close!”

The Doctor closed the door and hit the button for dematerialisation. There was an ugly grinding noise, a brief plume of smoke and nothing more.

He used his hanky to wave away the smoke.

“Ray,” he said. “Where did you put that bag of tools?”

***

**Five: Broken Record (or Cruelty to Root Vegetables)**

Despite everything, he was the same person. Really. Mel tried to convince herself again.

She was beginning to wish she hadn’t had time to sit still and think. She never usually worried about these things.

Mind you, he didn’t remember that he’d given two entirely different answers to the same question, when she’d asked, just to see how far the differences went. To Mel with her photographic memory that was hard to comprehend.

“So why don’t you like carrot juice?” she’d asked.

He’d grimaced at her, his mind on the TARDIS manual, which – now she came to think of it – she hadn’t seen since that business with the Rani. “Does anyone?”

“Yes,” she replied promptly. “Me.”

He sighed. “It’s...tasteless.”

“ _You_ don’t like it because it’s tasteless?” she countered with much private amusement.

He put the manual down. “And now that I come to think of it, it’s orange. Who goes around drinking something that orange?”

“Lots of people. What about orange squash?”

He’d looked even more offended. “I don’t drink orange squash! I’d have thought that would have been below even your standards. Far too sugary, with artificial colourings, flavourings and preservatives and very little genuine orange.”

“So,” summarised Mel. “It’s tasteless and it’s orange. What about tomato juice?”

His incredulity grew. “The only reason to be going round drinking something that red and revolting would be if I were a vampire!”

“I like it,” she said.

He shook his head and resumed his reading. “You are a very peculiar young lady.”

When she’d tried with the newer version, he’d turned and sighed heavily.

“Did I ever tell you that carrots may be sentient?”

Her gaze narrowed. “No. You told me that they were too orange and tasteless.”

“Did I? Anyway, I have a friend who says he can hear than screaming when they’re pulled from the earth.” He gave her an inscrutable look. “I don’t want to imagine what they’re going through when some human is pulverising them into liquid.”

Mel folded her arms. “Carrots aren’t sentient. What about potatoes?”

“Some reports indicate that potatoes are one of the more intellectual root vegetables,” he returned blithely. “Of course, the publisher was a gooseberry, and you know how unreliable they are.”

She laughed, unable to help herself. “You’re being silly.”

“There’s nothing remotely amusing about cruelty to vegetables,” he told her sternly.

It was a shame there was no one she could talk to. Who could she go to and explain that her very best friend had had a complete change of personality? Everyone else she knew would think that she was exaggerating.

Maybe it would be an idea to attach herself to someone who wouldn’t abruptly change everything about himself?

***

**Six: Broken Journey**

While a group of guards hammered and chipped away at the outside uselessly, the two of them continued to work on the console.

“Spanner.”

“There you go. Do you want this little bit of metal, Doctor?”

He turned. “Where did that come from?”

“I think it fell out of there.”

“Ah. I’d better put it back, then.”

She watched him work with interest. “Those aliens didn’t think I was very glamorous, either.”

“I thought I told you that glamour was over-rated.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Multi-dimensional-thermobile stabilizer.”

“Ooh, I don’t think I have one of those, Doctor.”

He sat up. “Really? How do you manage without it?”

“I’ve never needed one before.”

“Sonic screwdriver?”

“I’ve got a normal sort of screwdriver,” she offered, passing it over.

He looked at it regretfully. “I suppose it will have to do.”

“Where are we?” she asked.

The Doctor fiddled with the wiring and pulled his fingers back sharply at a brief electric shock. “In the console room.”

“No, this planet. I’d like to know.”

He thought about it. “Hmm. The Sacred Flower of Hiatchis? I’d say this must be Irona during their excessively horticultural period.”

“Irona,” she repeated, committing the name to memory. Once she travelled to Irona and saw distant stars in another sky, touched a sacred purple plant and helped a strange man to mend his time and space machine.

“Allen key?”

“Here.”

“Cup of tea?”

She smiled to herself. “I don’t know where the tea things are.”

The Doctor emerged fully from under the console. “I’ll have to make us one, then.”

The room shook and they both looked to the scanner.

“Dear me,” said the Doctor. “Who thought a battering ram would be a good idea?”

“They can’t get in, can they?”

He shook his head. “We’ll have a cup of tea and then I’ll finish rewiring this back into the panel and we’ll be off. No one’ll ever know we left.”

“Do you think we ought to do something?” asked Ray, looking back up at the scanner. “If it was their Sacred Flower and we flattened it, couldn’t we try and leave something to show we’re sorry?”

He screwed the panel back in and tightened it, forgetting the tea already. “Do I look like someone who would keep a cutting from a Sacred Flower in the back of my TARDIS?”

“I think I’d believe anything of you, Doctor.”

He got to his feet and dusted himself down. “I suppose I could try.”

*

The group of aliens drew back as the door of the strange box opened and then closed again. Moments later it vanished, leaving the remains of their precious flower – and a bowl of hyacinths.

***

**Seven: Conversational Interlude**

“Hello again, young lady,” said Burton, stopping to sit at her table, as she was eating. “Did you find the chalet to your liking?”

She smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Mr Burton.”

“The least I could do,” he said dismissively. Then he coughed and leant in conspiratorially. “Do you do that sort of thing often? Aliens and whatnots?”

She said, “I’m afraid so.”

“Do you think he would take me for a spin in his space ship?”

Mel thought hard about how to say ‘But you’re too old’ kindly and realised there was no way. She chewed her food carefully and then said, “What would they do without you here, Mr Burton?”

“True, true,” he acknowledged. “Yes, can’t go gallivanting off when there are guests here, now, can I? Merely a thought, Miss Bush. Brought back memories that little skirmish did.”

She put a hand on his to stall him for a moment. “That reminds me. I should say thank you. You saved my life.”

“Nonsense,” he said. “It was your Doctor rescued us all.”

Mel did not press the issue, but it was Burton who had stepped in when she was facing a psychopathic alien with a gun levelled at her head and a girl with a memory like an elephant certainly did not forget something like that. Besides, most people would have refused to listen to their tale of invading aliens and thrown them out of the office.

“Talking of which,” she said cheerfully, “I’d better go and see how he’s getting on.”

***

**Eight: Broken Hearts**

Ray reflected on love and broken hearts. The Doctor knew about her, but she knew nothing about him, except that he seemed to understand her feelings and that they were both far too attached to their respective vehicles for their own good.

“What about you, Doctor?” she asked softly. “Did someone break your heart, like Billy and me?”

He smiled at her. “Oh, too many times to mention. It’s lucky I have a spare.”

“A spare heart?” She stared.

He raised an eyebrow.

“You aren’t joking, are you?” she returned, all wide-eyed.

The Doctor coughed and changed the subject. “You could join us – if you wanted. There’s even room for the Vincent.”

Ray smiled. “Have you found anywhere better than here yet?”

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed with a twinkle.

She said, "Then I'd better go back and give the Happy Hearts driver a hand with the minibus. It's broken down, you know."

"More broken hearts," he joked. "Good luck with the repair work."

She kissed him on the cheek and then hugged him. “It was a lovely trip, though, Doctor. You’ll come back and see us again one day, won’t you?”

“As long as the Daleks don’t get me,” he promised, although only time would tell if this one he would keep. He thought he would. Maybe. Trouble was, he always did tend to take the scenic route to anywhere.

*

Despite getting far more sleep than she was used to, Mel did not feel rested. She felt unusually nervous and irritable as she followed the Doctor back up the hill.

“You don’t need me at all, do you?” she said lightly, but somewhere inside it surprised her how much she wanted an answer.

He did, she told herself firmly. Enough of silly fancies. Without her, he’d be wandering into all sorts of trouble with no one to pull him out again, no one to talk to – even this version of him would never like that. He’d have to talk to himself or give a lecture to the console. She’d carry on, doing what she did, looking after him, exploring the universe and trying her best not to get herself or him killed.

She had all of time and space, for the moment at least, and that made her the luckiest computer programmer in the universe.

If only he had said something more enlightening than: “All the world needs a nice cup of tea, Mel!”

“You’re doing it again,” she told him sternly. “I don’t even know what that should have been.”

He sighed. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“You certainly aren’t,” she retorted with a smile, but for once her heart wasn’t in it.

***

**Epilogue: Breaking Up**

He put an arm around her and tweaked her nose. “I’m very fond of you, Mel,” he said, as they walked back.

It was all very friendly and comfortable. Yet, Mel thought, it was odd how much it sounded like goodbye.

She glanced to the side, avoiding his gaze, not wanting to see anything to justify her fears. He was the Doctor and she loved him, for all his faults. She didn’t want to find that she had lost him when he changed faces after all.

“Time to go!” he said brightly.

Still Mel woke in the night and shivered.


End file.
